


The Mystery of Victoria Clark

by AthenaFangGranger26



Series: The Adventures of 'Lizabeth Page [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, I APOLOGIZE, it's a little strange.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaFangGranger26/pseuds/AthenaFangGranger26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes. A pretty girl. A club. And Liz's dating advice. What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mystery of Victoria Clark

"I'm not going to a bloody club with you!"  
"But it's for a case, John!" Sherlock sighed, giving his flatmate a exasperated look.  
"No. People will talk." John replied, pointedly going back to his newspaper. "Ask 'Lizabeth."  
"Already did. She won't leave Allison and Chace home with her husband."   
"Her husband has a name, and he's technically your son-in-law." John shook his head.  
"Fine. His name is Sean. Happy?" Sherlock grumbled. "I suppose I'll go alone. It won't be as convincing, mind you."  
"You do that, then Sherlock. Have fun." John dismissed the conversation.  
Sherlock huffed and stomped off to his bedroom. He was fully aware of how childish it looked; he wanted John to change his mind. People always talk no matter what he and John did, what should it matter?  
But if John was going to be stubborn, then why couldn't he? And he would be stubborn. It just meant he would have no one to talk at on the case. But Sherlock Holmes had survived well enough before John Watson, he could do it again.

"What do I do?" Sherlock shouted at his mobile on the table.  
"It's a club, wear something flirty." His adopted daughter's voice came through the speaker.  
"Oh, please."  
"I'm not kidding, how old is the guy you're trying to catch? Is it that Sweeney character I turned down a few days ago?" 'Lizabeth asked.  
"Yes, he is approximately twenty-three." Sherlock sighed, staring at his wardrobe.  
"So, wear that violet shirt of yours, dark trousers, and dark shoes. Make your hair extra curly, and leave the top two buttons of your shirt open."  
"What will that do?"  
"Make you actually look like a bachelor. With any luck, you'll get a girl to dance with you, so you can look over her shoulder for Sweeney." 'Lizabeth sounded like she was laughing at the thought.  
"Can't you just come?"  
"I told you. I have to take care of Alli and Chace tonight. Sean has a job interview. I'd love to, but something tells me my two year old twins would cause some suspicions. Not to mention the mess my son would most likely get into."  
"Can't you get a sitter?"  
"No! Admit it, you don't want to dance with a girl!" Now 'Lizabeth was really laughing.  
"Oh, shut up Liz!"  
"I'm right, aren't I?" 'Lizabeth chuckled.  
"No."  
"Yes." Suddenly there was a dreadful wail on 'Lizabeth's end, followed by another voice joining in the cry. "Oh, damn. Alli, why must you wake your brother?"  
Sherlock chuckled at his daughter. He listened to her curse a few more times, obviously hoping her husband would go take care of the fussing children.  
"Sorry, gotta run. Sean's too engrossed in his damn telly." 'Lizabeth stepped away from the phone a moment and yelled, "Sean, you have an interview in twenty minutes, get off your arse and get ready!" Then she was back closer to the phone. "Apparently I've gotta go put the kids back down, and round up my child of a husband. Good luck tonight though. Love ya, Uncle Sherlock."  
"Goodbye, 'Lizabeth." Sherlock hung up the phone and went in search of the outfit 'Lizabeth had described.

Perhaps this cover would be harder than he had assumed. There were too many bodies writhing on that dance floor. There was no way in hell he was letting those sweaty strangers touch him.  
Instead he chose to sit at the bar, observing from afar. The bar had a decent view of the whole room, so it was a decent seat.  
He chatted idly with the bartender, trying to get information. So far no one had seen a man matching Sweeney's description. So, he wasn't here yet.   
They did say a man with the right description had been to the club and ordered a Scotch last week. The date of Sweeney's last strike.  
Suddenly his phone buzzed. He glanced down at it. A text from Liz.  
'Keep an eye out for girls checking you out. Try to act sexy, invite one in to dance. Use her as bait. Sweeney targets women not men, make the man jealous! -LT'  
Sherlock rolled his eyes at his daughter, but swept his eyes over the room anyway. There were a small group of women watching him. They seemed to be talking to one woman in particular, as if she were trying to muster the courage for something.  
He dismissed them quickly, along with his daughter's advice, and went back to watching the dance floor. Still no sign of the man.  
"Excuse me, Mr. Holmes." A small voice said.  
Sherlock turned back around to see the woman from the group. She was naturally short, made a few inches taller by her heels. Her hair was brunette, naturally so-minus the streak of electric blue. Her soft brown eyes were watering slightly, possibly from the contacts in them. She was dresses shyly, but also appropriately for a nightclub.  
"Yes?"  
"My name is Victoria Clark. Were you perhaps looking for the man called Mark Sweeney?" The woman said softly.  
Sherlock gave the girl an intimidating stare. "How do you know that?"  
"Because I'm looking for him too. My best friend was his last victim, and I'd like a bit of revenge." The woman's shy smile turned into a positively wicked smirk. "Would you like some help catching him?"  
Sherlock was perplexed by this woman. Other than her appearance, he could not read if she was telling the truth.  
But wasn't this what 'Lizabeth had meant? Find a girl willing to dance?  
"Would you care to dance?" Sherlock found himself saying.  
"I'd love that." Victoria said, a slight blush visible in the flashing stobes.  
Sherlock held out a hand for the woman. She took it and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. It took all of his self-control to not shy away from the multitude of sweaty figures around him. He tried to focus on the woman in front of him.  
She had her eyes closed and was swaying side to side to the rhythm of the song blasting over the speakers. She wore a closed lip grin and her expression shifted with the lyrics of the song. Then suddenly her hands fell on his shoulders. He instantly flinched, eliciting a chuckle from the girl.  
"Relax. Pretend to dance, Mr. Holmes. You're looking quite suspicious." She chuckled, continuing to dance.  
Sherlock tried to let his body relax and mimic Victoria's movements. She let out another laugh and reached out to place his hands on her waist.  
"You look awkward, Mr. Holmes. Sweeney will surely spot you, unless you join in the fun." Victoria giggled.  
Sherlock followed her instructions, beginning to copy her. He let himself rock to the beat of the music and even allowed himself to spin Victoria. He kept his eyes above her head and watched the sidelines for Sweeney.

Then the music slowed and quite a few people shuffled off the dance floor, not having the partner to dance with. Sherlock stayed rooted though, slowing his and Victoria's movements.  
She stepped an inch closer and laid her head on his chest. He allowed it, nearly ignoring it and continued to scan the area.  
"Anything?" Victoria mumbled, her voice reverberating through his chest.  
"Nothing. Perhaps tonight was the wrong night." Sherlock mused, barely moving his lips.  
"At least we got a good dance out of this, if we're wrong." Victoria chuckled.  
Sherlock glanced down at her. She looked so small and frail, but there was also an intriguing fire to her dark brown eyes. Something told him that she was not as helpless as some of John's girlfriends.  
"What are you staring at, Mr. Holmes?" Victoria glanced up to meet his gaze.  
"Just observing, Miss Clark."  
"Call me Victoria." She smirked.  
"Call me Sherlock."  
"Very well. Where do we go from here, should Sweeney not show?" Victoria asked softly.  
"I suppose we could return tomorrow."  
"To dance again?" Victoria chuckled, swaying a little more to punctuate her question.  
"I suppose."  
The two grew quiet. Just dancing slowly, arms around each other. Sherlock found himself trying to ignore a strange feeling emanating from where Victoria's head was resting on his chest. He had only experienced a feeling similar to this twice before: when he finally accepted John Watson as his friend, and when he discovered he cared for Elizabeth Page.  
This was certainly strange.

It grew later and later, finally ending in Victoria deciding it must be too late for their prey to arrive. She pulled herself out of Sherlock's grasp and gave a little curtsy.  
"I believe our evening is over, Mr. Sherlock Holmes." She smiled. "I assume, I shall meet you here again tomorrow evening?"  
Sherlock smiled. "You assume correctly, Miss Victoria Clark. Shall I walk you out, to continue our cover?"  
Victoria gave him a sly smile, almost as if she had read his mind. "Of course, Mr. Holmes."  
Sherlock held out his arm and Victoria slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Sherlock led her off the dance floor unhindered, and marveled silently at the woman's grace. Why would he marvel? He didn't care about those things.  
What was happening to him?  
Once outside, Sherlock released Victoria's arm and she turned to him with a smile.  
"It really was a pleasure to hunt with you, Mr. Holmes."  
"Should we share a kiss to finish this masquerade?" Sherlock asked warily.  
Victoria grinned wickedly. "I do believe that would be the natural response to a man and woman dancing at a club-other than returning home together. I suppose that is out of the question."  
"It is." Sherlock stiffened.  
"Well, you may kiss me then, Mr. Holmes. Make it believable." Victoria smirked.  
Sherlock gathered his pride, then leaned down and pressed his lips to Victoria's. She smirked against his lips and reciprocated, leaning up to encircle his neck with her arms.  
Sherlock smirked too, and pressed the woman closer, deepening the kiss. He could practically read her surprise instantly.  
When they pulled away, they were both lost for breath and staring at each other. Victoria was the first to stretch her lips in a grin.  
"Well, that was impressive, Mr. Holmes. I look forward to more of than tomorrow." She grinned, then gave him a dainty wave.  
She walked off to find a cab, climbing in without a glance back.  
Sherlock stared after her with a perplexed expression. Then he retrieved his phone and texted a quick message.  
To: Liz Turner  
From: Sherlock Holmes  
I am experiencing odd symptoms. -SH  
It only took a few moments for his daughter to reply: 'You didn't get drunk did you? -LT'  
Sherlock typed back a reply, signaling down a cab and climbing in the back.  
'No, it is an odd fluttering sensation in my chest. -SH'  
'Oh, God. Did you dance with a girl? -LT'  
'Yes, I followed your directions. -SH'  
'Was she pretty? -LT'  
'I suppose so. Yes, yes she was. -SH'  
'Did the feeling happen after you danced with her? -LT'  
'Yes, and during. Do you have a diagnosis? -SH'  
It took Liz a while to answer and when she did, Sherlock surely felt stupid. Of course, how could he not have read the symptoms? Of course.  
'Uncle Sherlock, I think you might be attracted to the woman. -LT'  
Yes, of course, that was it. Well, this surely put a spin on their rendezvous.  
'Don't tell John. -SH'  
'I won't. Your secret's safe with me. Can I know her name? -LT'  
'Victoria Clark. -SH'  
'Interesting. I won't tell a soul, or mind, or whatever. Good luck with her, Uncle Sherlock. -LT'  
'Thank you, Liz. This will definitely be a strange experience. -SH'  
He could practically hear 'Lizabeth's laughter in her last reply: 'Try not to treat her like a science experiment. Girls don't exactly like that sort of thing. -LT'  
Sherlock smiled, knowing his daughter enjoyed this event. Perhaps if something arose from this experience, 'Lizabeth would one day meet Victoria and like her. Perhaps she could even meet John when Sherlock came to terms with this event.  
But it all depended on tomorrow evening's happenings. Until then, Sherlock would push this out of his head. Focus on hiding this epiphany from his flatmate. John wouldn't question too much if he didn't say anything about it.  
And that's the way it would stay.  
Victoria Clark was Sherlock Holmes' problem to solve, and solve it he would.


End file.
